On his first flight our President moans and bitches,
The witch hunt is on, which he sees as most unfair,
In these first 100 days he’s had his share of glitches
So it’s GREAT Fox will take his- not fake- word to air.
Then leave ’em polished, constantly spinning up there.
The news the Left wing media rolls out and pitches
Make his dream trip on Air Force One a nightmare,
Pressure is building on his mind and in his britches,
And Nut Jobs note is proving a pain in the derriere.
Will Don come clean, or rely on flameproof underwear?
Roger Ailes has gone up to meet his Redeemer,
The hard-nosed old news hound is going home,
Saint Peter looked up at the abrasive old schemer
Then back down to check him in his weighty tome.
Rog watched the febrile fingers creep down the page;
A blessed eternity was what the saint was going to take,
Oh, Good Lord, you’re still using books in this digital age?
Couldn’t You update the Pearly Gatehouse, for Pete’s sake?
Rog grumbles as Saint Peter kept short sightedly looking,
Till Saint Peter found a note to which to Rog he gladly relayed,
‘The Management regrets that it has transferred your booking,
You poor soul, don’t you recall that Damned great deal you made?’
Donald seeks his leaks here, he seeks leaks there,
He’s determined to stuff that leak- like Obamacare,
Yesterday he was sadly saying to the Russian Ambassador,
‘Sergey, you’re the only one I can talk to about it anymore.’
Security Directive #13 To The President. (URGENT.)
Sir; Please remove head from butt;
Place foot in mouth to keep mouth shut.
There’s a ramping-up of tensions between the two Koreas,
Finger pointing- and worse- across their mutual frontiers,
These are testing times as the North fuels and fans our fears
As up into the atmosphere another missile disappears.
Kim, who has clearly needed good guidance for years,
May find his baying braying bravado could yet end in tears,
Despite the Koregraphed clapping and well-practiced cheers
Korea could be awfully quiet once the smoke and fallout clears.
Thanks for bringing Hillary’s e-mails into the public eye,
Your timing, before the election, was fortuitous I can’t deny,
Then, I applauded your determination to not let things lie,
Then, Mr Comey, Head of the FBI,
You were my kinda guy.
Now, today, though James,I must ask why
You have to continue to assiduously probe and pry,
To look into MY affairs, like some despicable spy?
So from my close advisers, Sergey Vlad and I
It’s dosevedanya… er, goodbye.